


There is a light that never goes out

by sailor8t



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailor8t/pseuds/sailor8t
Summary: Clarke comes home.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	There is a light that never goes out

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to The Smiths for inspiration.

Clarke sat in the darkness of the room that had been her safe place until a few hours ago, when arrogance and fear made it a place she hated. After Titus shot Lexa, after Clarke slowed the bleeding and Titus carried Lexa away, he left her there and locked the door. Her anxiety continued to climb as she heard nothing from the hall. There should have been people running to bring whatever was needed to save Lexa. If they were out there, she couldn’t hear them over the pounding of her own heart, her thoughts willing Lexa’s to continue beating.

The doors opened and Titus growled, “Flika.”

The guards behind him left for a moment and returned with small lit candles. They made their way around the room, lighting every candle they ran across.

In the dark, Clarke got to her feet. Titus had seen enough of her weakness. If he meant to kill her despite the promise he gave Lexa, she would face him.

“Wanheda,” Titus greeted her, and lowered his head for a moment. “Heda seeks your counsel.”

“Take me to her.”

Clarke followed Titus across the hall to Lexa’s room and Clarke ground her teeth. The afternoon had been perfect. Lexa glowed in the soft light while they ignored for a few hours all that was wrong in their worlds.

“Titus, bants,” Lexa ordered, her voice low and hoarse, and he closed the doors as he backed into the hall.

Clarke moved around him so she could see Lexa. The Commander of 13 Clans lay in her bed, her head slightly inclined. The room was bright with candles, and they were, inexplicably, alone.

“Klark,” Lexa said, and Clarke heard her exhaustion. She didn’t need any more of an invitation and hurried to the bed.

Lexa patted the empty space closest to Clarke, and she gingerly got on the bed, her eyes glued to Lexa’s face, alert to any sign of pain. Lexa tried to smile, and Clarke tried to smile back while she picked up Lexa's hand.

As if she read Clarke’s mind, Lexa said, “Look.”

With her free hand, Clarke pulled the fur down and clumsily unbuttoned Lexa’s shirt with one trembling hand. Lexa’s torso was wrapped in bandages, but there was no sign that she continued to bleed under them.

“Klark,” Lexa repeated, and Clarke looked at her face. “I am not ready to leave you, ai hodness.”

Clarke nodded before bending down to kiss Lexa. It was short, a promise that they weren’t finished.

Lexa smiled a little when Clark sat up, then dropped the mask of Heda over her features. “You cannot stay, Clarke.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You must. Your people need you.”

Clarke scoffed.

“Without you, they will not find their way back.”

“I won’t leave you here with him.”

“He is no danger to me. When you return, we will decide what to do.”

“You believe I’ll return.”

“If I did not, I would not urge you to go to them.” Lexa suppressed a yawn. The pain medication was hitting her with full force. “Ryder waits at the stable. He will make certain you reach Arcadia safely. You know what you must do,” she added, her voice full of regret.

“I can’t,” Clarke pleaded. “Please don’t make me leave you.”

“You must,” Lexa repeated.

After a few seconds, Clarke bowed her head. Her tears fell onto Lexa’s hand. She fought for control, and finally found enough to lean forward and kiss Lexa gently.

Lexa’s free hand slid into the hair at Clarke’s temple. “I will be here,” she promised, “when you come home.”

Clarke nodded as Lexa’s hand slipped away. She kissed Lexa’s hand and laid it on the bed. She buttoned Lexa's shirt and returned the covers to their original position. By that time, Lexa was asleep, succumbing at last to blood loss and potent medications.

Clarke walked across the hall again and gathered the things she might need. In the hall, she looked longingly at the doors to Lexa’s room before forcing herself to walk to the lift, head up, eyes forward. Her people, their people, waited for her, and Clarke was determined to complete the task before her.

When it was finished, whatever it took, Clarke would return. “Home,” she whispered as the lift shuddered, and for a moment saw Lexa, luminous in the afternoon light filtered through the window. That flush of warmth and Lexa’s trust made made her stand taller and reinforced her resolve.

Weeks later, with peace restored in Arcadia, Clarke rode toward Polis. As she neared the city, her eyes instinctively went to the top of Lexa’s tower. The flame still burned brightly and Clarke nudged her horse to a faster pace. “Home,” she said quietly, thinking of all the things it meant.

The lift moved slowly and Clarke counted her breaths to tamp down her impatience. It stopped at the very top of the tower, and Clarke marched down the hall to the audience chamber. She heard voices from behind the doors, but they stopped when the ambassadors and their retinues turned to see her at the open doors.

“Wanheda,” Lexa greeted her, and Clarke could see relief and delight on her face.

“Heda,” Clarke answered. She took even steps down the carpeted aisle and knelt at the base of the dais holding Lexa’s throne.

“Rise and report.”

“All is well, Heda. The traitors are dead and Skaikru will do whatever is necessary to pay for the harm they caused.”

“We will speak of that later, Bandrona.” Lexa looked away from Clarke for the first time since the doors opened. “We are finished for the day,” she announced, and waited for the room to empty before she rose from her throne. “Klark,” she said with a smile while navigating the few steps. “You are home.”

Clarke smiled at the light in Lexa's eyes and agreed, “I’m home.”

-30-

  
  


  
  



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